Eye of the Beholder
by monkeygirl77
Summary: When Lucifer is attacked and marked while he’s down after the fight with Amara it quickly comes to light that huamsn can be just as bad as the monsters in the world. Not able to access his wings and limited to what little grace he had left Lucifer has to learn to trust old foes again in order to free himself. But is that asking too much from him?


It hurts.

There is no other word he can use to describe how it feels to be forcibly pulled out of his vessle other then it _hurt._ It was agonizing, being taken from a physical plane and forced into a more meta plane.

Everything is on fire.

There is no shelter for him, he is out in the open, a wounded animal surrounded by threats to his own life.

So he flees. He runs as far and as fast as he can and he doesnt want to stop running, but alas he is left with little choice in that matter, as his wings give out somewhere over the Rockies and he crashes hard.

Insult to injury at this point, and he tries to curl in on himself, true form battered and bruised, everything tingles with agony.

His senses aren't about him or he would have noticed his company, friend or foe to be decided, and it isnt until he's 'muzzled' that he comes to such realizations that he is not as alone as he assumed he was. There was a shout of something he could not make out and then more pain. Why couldn't he catch a break?

...

Being reunited with His sister was amazing, being on the same plane again filled a void that had been empty for eons, and though He would have loved to travel the galaxy with her He still had work to do here.

Though He'd been weakened by the fight with Amara, He could still hear Lucifer's scream when he'd been pulled from Castiel's vessel, it was a scream that would haunt ears for a long time to come. The Winchesters had been elated to have their angel back, and only him, surprise etched over their features when he told them of his time with Lucifer within his own vessel.

He hadn't felt a thing. Nothing. Not the torture from Amara when she'd captured them. Not the fight between the pathetic 'God-squad' (as Lucifer had coined it). Nothing. He'd been pushed so deep into his vessel that all he knew from their battle was the echoes of words.

There was a bright flash.

Then nothing. He was alone again.

Weak as He was, His power was infinite, and growing in strength with every moment passing by. Shaking His head to clear the cloudiness and regain His senses, He looked around, trying in vain to spot the Angel not within the room. The trail he would have left at least, but spotted nothing, nothing but what was in front of Him.

"Chuck?", the voice of Sam Winchester pulled Him from His thoughts and musings and He turned, "Chuck? Everything okay?"

He shook His head, "No, I mean yes, everything is going to be fine, but no. Where is Lucifer?"

Dean had helped Castiel up from the floor, arm draped over his shoulder, "Who cares?"

Chuck gave him a look, eyes flitting to take in Castiel's form, from bruises and scars to the worn wings, shaking His head absentmindedly He reached a hand out for him, palm pressed to his temple. Had He really been away this long? That the angels would turn into this?

He almost dreaded to see the rest of the Host.

Castiel gasped at the rush of _power_ and stayed Dean's movements when the hunter made to pull him away. It seeped into every pore, every feather, filling the cracks and replenishing the feathers. His grace, so weak, a dying flame, flared in life.

And then it was gone, "Better?", everything was in a haze for a moment as he recovered and all he could manage was a mere nod. He hoped it was a nod anyway. He was still too overcome to know for sure.

"What the hell did you just do to him!"

"Relax Dean", though His voice was soft there was an ever resounding power behind it, "I merely healed him. Take it easy for a couple of days Castiel, it was a lot of power your grace needed and it is going to take time for it to mend despite my intervention."

Back to the other problem at hand, "Which brings me back to my other son, Lucifer, where is he?"

Sam looked over at his brother for a short moment, neither saying a word though an entire conversation seemed to pass between them through sight alone, and turned back.

Honestly, they didn't know where Lucifer was and part of him didn't really care. So long farewell. The last they'd seen of him was when he'd been taken out of Cas by Amara. Then he was gone.

"I come back to my previous question", Dean at least was vocal about it, somewhat, "He's out of our hair? Isn't that a good thing?"

"No. He is weak. Hurt. And this fight he drug himself into did him no favors. Being in the state he is now is more dangerous then anything. More likely to lash out if given the choice. Besides," Chuck rubbed a hand down His face and sighed, "I should probably apologize, better, this time."

"Can't you just go get him? I mean...Well you're God."

Again He shook His head, eyes narrowing, "No. I wish I could. But I can't feel him. I can't see him."

Well that was just great, Lucifer was out on the town and God Himself couldn't see him.

...

Coming too only lead to more pain, everything was on fire, and the buzzing of life around him seemed to be in a fatigued type of slow motion. He struggled to get up, huffing at the excertion it took, and that was the moment he took sight of the cuff around his wrist. Still in the middle of these woods, being rained on, and now there was a strange machine strapped to his wrist.

The one thing that stands out to him is that he can't feel his Father, though he inwardly suspects that He's long gone by now, as that's what He's good at. Leaving.

He groans and presses a hand to his middle, pulling it away slick with red, it hurts too much to focuse on being upset at that for the moment.

His grace feels funny.

He can, he can barely feel it, and it scares him.

Without thinking he looks downwards, beyond the grass and the dirt to the iron box below the earth. There was one who could help him. Help him figure out what was wrong with his grace and what this thing on his wrist was.

And so, never thinking he'd ever do this, he sought the help from down below.

...

Michael was not sure what to think when he looked up, and through the fissures created by the Darkness's release, there was the weak glow of once bright grace seeping down and taking form.

He looked him over, eyes drawn to the wounds and immediately to the thing around his slim wrist, then his eyes move up to meet the ice blue of his brothers.

"What happened?"

There's anger, Lucifer can feel it in the air around them, his brother is angered. Enraged even. But none of that anger he feels is felt to be directed at him. He doesn't move as his brother steps forward, taking his shoulder in hand he stepped as he was turned, his brother bending to look him over more closely. Pulling at the shirt around his stomach to see it peel away like layer of skin it was so covered in blood. Then to his wrist. The blinking device. An insignia is carved into the dark metal, something akin to a shield, and his eyes harden just a tad.

"Little brother?"

Lucifer shakes his head, leaning into his brother as a wave of dizziness comes and passes, "I don't know big brother."

"You don't know?"

He shakes his head, letting his older brother steady him with a hand to his shoulder, and looks up.

"Maybe Dad culd help but He's gone again."

"He is not, He is on Earth still, perhaps looking for you."

Well that was most certainly a surprise. Surely he thought his Father had left already. Maybe things would really be different, just as He'd promised him too, one could hope anyway.

"Let us get out of here little brother, I will look you over more thoroughly, and Father can help get this device off of you."

"How?"

That sounded as good a plan as any, but there was one problem, how on Earth does two Archangel's get out of a cage created and designed by God Himself to be inescapeable. Lucifer had been out but now that he was back in again it would take little more then a miracle.

Michael hummed, "There is one way to get out of here."

He wasn't sure how much he liked that tone his brother was using.


End file.
